The Eternal War
by Ninjabuddhism
Summary: Two great empires, at a state of Eternal War. Only one may emerge victorious from this cataclysmic conflict, the Greeks or Romans. The battle lines are drawn, the battlefield set, and the re-ignition of a brutal war between one of these civilizations will begin anew. Who will win, who will fall? Rated M for story flexibility.
1. Prologue & Context

The Eternal War: Prologue

Zeus stood alone on the podium of his throne, the steps leading up to the twin thrones- his and Hera's- gave him a bird's eye view over the entire throne room, which was currently empty. The central hearth that normally blazed during the olden days were left cold and abandoned. His sister, Hestia, had faded millennia ago, overcome by the grief and sorrow that was imparted by the constant Greek-Roman war that killed millions and impacted billions. While gods of empathy and kindness faded, the gods of war and despair, fear, carnage, and death thrived. Ares grew more powerful than his fellow Olympians, his power fueled by the constant state of war that the two superpowers were in.

Zeus sighed, the constant migraine threatening to split his head-and personality- apart with his Roman counterpart, Jupiter. Although this was one of his better days, his migraines would get the better of him, and the two sides, and consequently, states, will go to war. The last major war between the United Greek Coalition and Roman Empire was 70 years ago in the 1940s, and since its conclusion in 1952 with the decisive Roman victory at Illyria, the Romans gained their great river head on the Greek side of the "Great River", building a intricate line of defense and numerous forts along the position, backed by artillery systems and air bases on the other side of the map.

The gods themselves were divided between the Greek and Roman counterparts. While Zeus remained on the side of the Greeks decisively, the other Olympians and minor gods were not as faithful. With some, defecting, for a lack of better word, to their Roman counterpart. With Pluto, Diana, Mars, Mercury, Bacchus and Nike chief among them.

From the hills of Macedonia where the Romans tasted their first defeat in conquest, to the vast expanse of the Holy Roman and Byzantine Empire, which the Greeks renamed themselves briefly, to the medieval 100 year war between the French and Greeks, to the World wars that manifested itself between the Allies and Axis or Central powers, the Great Struggle between the Roman Empire and Greek City States continued through-out the centuries, often manifesting itself with different people, places and purposes. From the Hills of Macedonia where the Romans tasted their first major military defeat, to the plains of the Byzantine Empire, to the Hundred Year War between the French and English, to the World Wars that shook the Balance of power to its core with devastating effect. And while the settings changed as the center of power, or two powers, shifted in accordance to history, war almost always broke out, as certain as the Sun rises in the East and sets in the West, as sure as pain, as sure as suffering.

However, this time, the scales of war have tipped to the Roman's favor, and the great shadow of War looms on the horizon once again. Zeus felt it in his bones. If the Greeks lose any more of their frontline on the river, they will be pushed back decisively, the Romans will win if the Greeks don't step up their game. And there is nothing that I can do about it, Zeus thought bitterly.

It's up to them now, he thought. If the last Greek flames are snuffed out, the Romans will do all that they could to destroy Greek culture and assimilate its people into Roman culture, the Greek Gods will fade, and the Roman Gods will reign supreme. The Greek City-States were always divided as a coalition, always prioritizing their interests at heart and wary of each other's motives, regardless of the looming shadow of their constant and common enemy

-The Greeks-

Sparta wanted an integrated army of soldiers from all city-states to be bred to fight, bleed and die on the battlefield. While Athens pursued a more "combined arms" doctrine, using their "Phalanx" Mark 5 Battle Tanks, 25cm "trebuchet" Artillery systems, and combined with their "Hoplite" Assault infantry. Apollonia focused on Seers to direct their military efforts by looking into the future, trying to catch glimpses through the heavy smoke of uncertainty and the unpredictable. The Cretans built up a formidable navy on their naval strongpoint of Panama, with a man-made canal built that let Greek and its allies' ships pass through the two narrowly divided oceans. It is often regarded as a economic and military lifeline to the Greeks. And at the foot of Mount Olympus near the metropolis of New Athens stood the Greek Special Forces Training Camp. Built with the need to conduct covert and highly classified mission, these spec-ops units will complete missions, "quests" as they are called in camp. Receiving intelligence from one of the many seers and oracles posted in the Greek Camp. "Half-blood Camp".

Air superiority was a touchy subject for the Greeks, because they frequently didn't have it. Their de-centralised chain of command and government made it hard to make one specific type of fighter, close air support and bomber. With each City-state coming up with different types of military aircraft. However, none could doubt the Athenian's "Aeolus" fighter. With unrivaled maneuverability and untouched weaponry, falling short on protection and a faulty ejection process. However, with each successful design, the Greeks produced ten ineffective fighter designs, and the balance in air power has been on the Roman's side since the dawn of flight a century ago.

When formed originally, it was built to cater to Demigods, but as the number of Demigods grew less with each passing year, clear sighted mortals were recruited to the Greek cause, undergoing intense physical and psychological training and tests. As the only integrated armed regiment in the Greek Coalition, they received orders only when the Council of Representatives agreed unanimously. Dropping behind enemy lines for sabotage, assassinations and espionage. They also spearheaded offensives conducted by the Greeks. However, these efforts will often fall short of the Roman's defining discipline and cohesion.

However, where the Greeks fall short on air power, they more than make up for with their naval prowess. With its coastal cities mass producing its battle proven "Chariot" class aircraft carriers, "Poseidon" class frigates, "Trident" class dreadnought and "Triton" class destroyer making up its surface fleet, it also used "Kymopoleia" class Submarines armed with dangerous sonar tracking torpedoes that were notorious for harassing Roman trade in the West coast of the continent. It's vital naval base in Crete allowed them to base the majority of their forces there for interception of a attacking, inferior Roman fleet. It also maintained a highly defensive, maneuverable defense fleet stationed and patrolling the friendly waters of the east coast, acting as a safety net against a surprise Roman attack.

The Greeks employed a complex system of espionage, with numerous agents and counter-agents deployed in the Roman empire, as well as in their own various city-states. These agents actively relayed important information and technological advances, often stealing these designs and implementing them into the Greek armies, with some modifications that would improve the overall capabilities of such technology the Romans invented.

The Greeks employed a form of dispersed industry, choosing to spread out its industry in the face of minimizing loses from strategic bombings conducted by the Roman air force, even during times of peace to ensure that their defensive and production capabilities were not undermined. Each state specialized in a certain trade. For example, Spartan troops made up the bulk of the assault infantry and many military assets were located in the province. In Apollonia, textiles and major cities were located, as well as being the trade center for the Greek city states. And in Athens, being the capital, was where the majority of trade and finances were conducted, as well as being the location for the Greek Council of representatives and other official government buildings essential to the Greek coalition.

The Greek government system was rather simple, despite its state as a coalition of unified city-states. One would imagine that the Greeks wasted enormous amounts of time and resources deciding and voting on new policies, with each city-state vying to forward their own agenda on economic, political, social and military issues. However, this was mostly not the case. While not every policy was supported unanimously, and not every vote passed without opposition, the Greeks were largely unified. Facing unparalleled hostility from the Romans, they were united to pass Government laws and policies to oppose the Romans most efficiently.

Greek culture was the most far-reaching. With their revolutionary motion-theatre entertainment proving to be a reliable and efficient form of revenue for the Greek war economy. Where ever, there was Greek influence, they were guaranteed raise revenue, influence and sway over the local country. All over the known world, the Greeks made their presence known with their awe-inspiring music and theatrics, impressive art and uncanny ability to produce some of the world's best musicians, actors, and anyone related to the entertainment industry, with the entertainment giant "twelve muses" as the figurehead of the trillion dollar entertainment industry the Greeks possessed.

-The Romans-

The Romans favored discipline in their troops, adhering to strict combat books and battle strategies to guide their way to victory. Although seen as rigid and awfully predictable in its attacks, the Romans were able to crush the Greeks armies almost all the time, halted in their advance only due to the long range artillery systems and warship missiles that the Greeks employed in their defensive battle doctrine.

Their main mobile infantry were organized into cohorts, with each cohort made up of 500 men. Ten of these cohorts of 500 men were organized into a Legion, supported by one company of 20 "Equites" Main Battle Tank and supported by 25 "Ballista" 20cm artillery and various types of rocket artillery systems. Each Legion worked together and together, they made a deadly adversary to the Greek armies. A notable occasion of the Legion's brutal efficiency as a killing machine was made in the Roman outpost of Noricum. There, a Legion, which was stationed there as a token force to safeguard the Roman's flanks, were attacked by 8 Greek Hoplite divisions, supported by 2 companies of Phalanx battle tanks. The Romans dug in, and bombs rained day and night from Greek "Ouranos" Fighter-bombers, with the one squadron of Roman "Diana" Fighters stationed there losing its fighters one by one.

With air superiority lost to the Greeks, the Romans took cover in the bombed ruins for some form of cover. And in the daylight, the Greeks advanced. It was a bloodbath of Greek bodies. The brutal hand to hand combat in the city made it easy for the Romans to create vital chokepoints, delaying the Greek forces from surrounding the Romans into an isolated part of the city. For every Roman Legionnaire that fell, 10 Greeks lost their lives. However, the Roman forces were soon overwhelmed, with their commander, Scipio Agrippa, who held the small town for 20 days before committing the last of his troops into a suicide charge to the enemy, followed by the last two hundred of his men. The Greeks rejoiced, even at the heavy cost incurred taking this small, somewhat important border town that the Romans controlled, only to be driven back 5 days later when a counterattack by the Roman 35th, 47th, 52nd and 91st legions arrived, regaining control of the outpost.

Apart from their respectable air force and awesome army, the last branch of the Roman armed forces, the navy was the weakest, deemed "un-Roman" the Romans never saw much value in maintaining a strong navy, devoting most of their resources to their army and air force. However, they did maintain 3 defensive fleets that protected Roman convoys and the Roman coasts from Greek attacks. Highly maneuverable, the Roman's had the speedy "Venti" class corvettes, "Pluto" class torpedo boats, and "Neptune" class Frigates, which acted as flagships for Roman fleet commanders.

Where the Greeks sought minimal loses from its production capabilities by Roman strategic bombers, the Romans faced no such threat. Even in times of relative peace, its air space above its industrial cities were secure, its jet fighters could intercept any known Greek aircraft that tried to enter its air space, driving them off before they could do any real damage. The Romans centralized their economy, following a series of bureaucratic processes to handle economic, political and social issues. As such, they are able to produce military equipment and its respective components needed to drive the Roman arms-race with the Greeks.

Where mathematics and science were concerned, the Romans reigned supreme, their technology was always one step ahead of the Greeks. Their legions were largely invincible due to their equipment, and battle doctrines. Their air force ruled the sky, never allowing the Greeks to gain a single foothold on their airspace.

With an army of such magnitude and quality, many often wondered why the Romans were unable to conquer the Greeks so easily. The Romans often underestimated them, going to such extents as to call them inferior "Graecus" scum. However, this was due to the fact that the Greeks could count of many allies around the world for military and economic aid. Moreover, the Greeks had used underhand methods to even the playing field. Their numerous agents infiltrated Roman society, with some even going as high as senator in the Roman court of Representatives of Prefects and Provinces (RRPP). These agents proved a blow to the knee, never allowing them to widen the gaps between the Romans and Greeks. And while the Romans did undergo numerous attempts at espionage and counter-espionage, they were never as successful, due to the nature of a coalition making it naturally more difficult, with often conflicting reports arising from different city-states, making it difficult for the Romans to stitch information together.

-End-

As such, the stage was set, the capabilities of each great empire laid out to bare. The Eternal War was approaching the end of its life. Only one great civilization will leave this war victorious.

Authors note: So, the stage is set, the dynamite from which war will once again erupt will ignite once again. I guess there are a couple things to answer:

The Gods (Both Roman and Greeks) will not play a major role in the war to come, think of them as in the state from Heroes of Olympus where they had a massive migraine and were unable to contribute to the war of the giants.

Yes, there will be characters from the original series, if there wasn't, it would hardly be a FanFiction *laugh*. Some characters will be omitted from this FanFiction. For example, the villains (Titans, Giants, Tartarus, Gaia, etc). There will only be major characters from the Romans, Greeks, occasional God, and some major historical characters ( From Generals to Senators to Dictators).

I Hope you enjoyed this introduction to the story. I aim to put out about 20 chapters of 100,000 words as a minimum goal for achieving this target. However, updates might only come out once every two weeks or so as I'm still in school. If there is anything you would like to query, feel free to drop a review, I will answer it in the next chapter. Constructive criticism is welcome. I know there will be some grammatical mistakes and such, I try to do my best to spot and edit them, but I might not catch all of them. So sorry in advance. Thank you, and have a nice day.

-Ninjabuddhism.


	2. Warnings

Warnings

The Plotter

-Rome-

"The Metropolis", "The never ending city", " The literal heart of the Roman Empire", they called it. The grand city of Rome could indeed be called that. With just leaders and a righteous sense of justice, equality and opportunity, it seemed that anyone, no matter their status in the hierachy, or intellect, could excel in this magnificent city. With its central district, acting as its financial hub, and a host to government buildings, and its surrounding fourteen districts serving to support its central district with ports, military bases, and residential areas surrounding the outskirts of the magnificent city. All through its years, poets, musicians and artists sang praise to Rome, admiring its fair and just way of ruling its subjects.

And while its leader, Diocletain "Jupiter" Augustus Grace, Caesar of Rome, was honor-bound in his ruling of Rome, his senators and advisers were less so, more susceptible to corruption, ambition and greed for the finer things in life.

Quintus Caessenius Gelasius, Representative of the precinct of Syracruse, was a portly man. Fat, in his late 50s, and reeked of luxury, greed and corruption. His thirst for power made him ambitious, and it paid off. He held power in the House of Representatives, becoming one of its most influential members and a key adviser to the Emperor. However, this hunger for power made him predictable, and his twenty year old aide - Octavian Caeparius Calenus - exploited it. Through an intricate web of backstabbing, blackmailing and spreading false information, Quintus's power declined, his support base falling and with many wishing him dead. This was not that uncommon. It was pretty standard for aides to try to usurp their overlord, whether through legitimate means such as popularity, getting elected, or forcing his master into an early retirement, or through illegitimate means such as blackmail, forced confessions or even death.

Octavian was a rather successful man. Shrewd, ambitious, and handy with a suppressed handgun he carried for "self defense". However, his loyalty was not to the Roman Empire. No, his loyalty lay with himself, for which he served only. Using connections, he managed to rise up the ranks of the Roman senate. From a desk clerk, to a regional governor of a minor city, eventually becoming a aide to a somewhat powerful senator in the Roman House of Representatives.

And in the shadows, he plotted further. Plans were drawn up, the chess pieces were in place. All that was left for him was to stay at home, with a perfect alibi. And tomorrow, he will be appointed into his master's office. He dreaded this process. Never in control, having to trust others to do his bidding. He paced endlessly around his sparse room, coming up with contingency plans should his plan fail to follow through and the need arises where he would have to improvise to save his own skin. His breathing never steadied, his heart beating hard. Goblets filled with wine were downed into his throat endlessly, his throat savoring, then detesting, the liquid that made him dizzy and muddied his throat.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until finally, at half past twelve midnight, he received a call on his smartphone in the middle of his cozy, if small, downtown apartment. The caller seemed to be in a noisy environment, filled with the sound of heavy machinery coming from one of the numerous Roman ports coming from the district of Aventinus.

"It is done". Came the smooth voice of the contract killer.

Octavian's heart soared. His heart beat all the same, but this time with ecstasy rather than dread. One more pawn taken off the chess board, one more obstacle removed from his path to the highest position in the Roman Empire. He could hardly suppress the smile that made its way onto his thin lips adorning his normally stoic face.

He would react violently, shedding crocodile tears for the media, sing praise of him, and take on the position of senator onto the Roman Assembly at the tender age of twenty. He could see himself there, persuading the old, balding senators that were drunk on their self-content. He would bring waves of change into the Roman Empire.

It would be limited at first, yes. The Emperor, although a considerate man, held most of the power within his hands. With enough support from the people, and the senators, he could overthrow him, and fully commit his plans. Making his dreams, his ideals, his values, into reality.

Octavian slept well, none of the usual nightmares plagued his rest tonight. And he awoke to the sound of the wooden door banging with the knock of an impatient person practically screaming of urgency. Octavian smiled into his pillow. He got up, and made his way to the door, yawning and not having a care of the repeated knocks that would have spurred anyone else into walking faster. He opened the door. A cursus publicus, a messenger, was outside, raising his hand into a fist to knock on his door again. Octavian feigned annoyance at the messenger, knowing full well his purpose here.

"What is it, it's seven in the morning" He grumbled.

"Sir, it's a calamity. Senator Quintus Caessenius Gelasius has been killed in the docks sir. The tribune has been informed Cohorts Urbanae have been summoned, they suspect that he was killed!" The messenger was near out of breath when he stopped.

Octavian's eyes widened comically, his mouth agape. This was all for a show of course, but he could hardly give a unsurprised face, suspicions will be raised, he may be prosecuted.

"Take me to the Roman senate". He had to act quickly.

The Diplomat

-Aigai, Macedonia-

The dialogues between the Greek and Roman delegates had gone poorly, and Annabeth Melampos Chase knew it.

They don't respect her enough to continue dialogues with the United Greek City States. She thought angrily. It infuriated her that, for all of Rome's ideals of equality and social mobility, they were oddly backwards when it came to the attitude regarding women in power.

The fact that they walked out of their fellow delegates was troubling. Greco-Roman relations were never at their finest, maintaining a stance of Cold War, waging trade wars and looking to undermine each other's international relations with their allies.

Annabeth stepped out into the warm sun, rubbing her skin in an attempt to warm them up from the chill of the air-conditioned room where their dialogue took place.

At twenty one, Annabeth was the youngest serving Representative in the Greek assembly. Hailing from the Greek island of Rhodes off the main-land of the Greek States. Her father was born from a cadet line of the ruling Chase family. And had always had a line of connection to power. However, the main reason for her early success was her ability to manipulate around people to get what she wanted, aided by her high intellect and ability to read people.

Annually, meeting were held in the Macedonian capital of Aigai, to settle disputes over territory, sanctions or military. Whatever that the Greeks or Romans had to complain about. Either side will attempt to compromise to an agreement, or just leave it as it was. But, in its two hundred years of open dialogue, the Romans had never walked out impromptu. Something was happening, and Annabeth didn't like it.

The Assassin

-The Royal Palace, Rome-

Perseus "The Avenger" Jackson stood over the Emperor's cold, dead body. His knife buried hilt deep into his, it's, chest. His Praetorian guards lay dead outside too, their throats slit from edge to edge.

The rest of his guards must be coming soon. Perseus thought. From his waits pouch, he produced a small, blue, cheesecake. A homage to mother. He tried to suppress his emotions within, tried not to let his tears, fear and anger show through his mask devoid of emotion.

He failed.

Tears streamed endlessly from his eyes, blurring his vision. The Old man had to die. He was the one giving the orders to execute innocents living peacefully within his empire, disrupting their blissfully simple lives with violence. His mother and younger sister were among the casualties, as well as his friends and step-father from the distant coastal town of Pisaurum. He was caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that the Praetorian guards had entered and formed a semi circle around this grieving, shrouded figure in black. They noticed their dead Emperor's body immediately and lowered their lances against him.

Perseus Wiped his tears away with his gauntlet, taking a deep breath before crouching low into a predatory stance, hand close to his sheathed pistol. He took aim, and fired.

The Heir

-Camp of the 12th legion, outskirts of Barcelona-

Sixteen year old Jason Grace was loved by his subordinates. Closely following his father's values of honor and courage. His legion was well known through out the world as being one of the most elite legions, taking on the barbaric tribes of the yet uncivilized world at the Roman borders. He led his legion of five thousand men, defeating barbaric factions and suppressing dissidents throughout the empire. Not through violence, no. He would rally the people to his cause, align them with Rome's goals and let them dispose of dissidents. He was judged as fair, yet brutally efficient in the way he carried out warfare. Opposing generals trembled at his lightning adorned insignia, his armored carriers and tanks moving at tremendous speeds to outflank their opponent. Bombs, friend and foe alike, raining down all around them.

As of now, he relaxed in his office in Barcelona, letting the soft bed absorb his fatigue. At his side, lay a whore, curled up at his side, sheets over her. Piper had been the long time "Concubine" to Jason Grace, since the age of fourteen last year. She was a year younger, and her beauty was whispered throughout the empire, poor and rich alike. He enjoyed her warmth, he found. It comforted her through his troubling nights of nightmare, blood and gore from past expeditions. The sex is just a bonus. He thought amusedly. In the corner was a study, a rectangular table sitting in the middle, to discuss strategy with his centurions.

As of now, the map stood ugly. Red and Blue decorated the world map between the Roman Empire dominating the Eastern New World and Western Europe, as well as Africa. The Greek City States controlled The Western New World and Eastern Old world, reigning over the barbaric tribes of Asia.

How glorious it would look to see all of the World under red. He thought. He had pondered over the most effective way to defeat the Greeks. He had considered diplomacy at the start. To find a way to bring Greece under the fold, granting self autonomy at the start, then slowly subjugating its people.

Maybe, if I try to create an alliance with the Thracians. Yes, they are an enemy, but if we grant them enough land as a reward-.

The telephone rang. Jason groaned out loudly. It seemed that duty never trailed far behind his pleasure. He moved to answer it. And in the process, woke Piper, who rubbed the sleep from her kaleidoscopic eyes. He ignored it, and picked up the phone, silencing its annoying ring tone.

"Sir, Sir, It's a calamity! The Emperor-". The messenger started.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down there. Take a deep breath. What happened to the Emperor?"

"He is dead, Sire. The Roman Emperor has been assassinated."

His blood ran cold in that moment. His strong, willful father was dead. The man who ruled the Roman Empire for a healthy twenty six years. He put down the phone and collapsed to his knees, bringing his hands up to cover his falling tears.

Now was his Reign.


	3. Rising Storm

Chapter 3: Storm

-The Ace-

Odysseus Airbase, Vladivostok.

The narrow space in the cockpit was jam-packed with electronics, data gatherers, sensors and controls. A helmet with an oxygen mask and integrated HUD was fitted over his unruly onyx hair and brown eyes. The air was controlled by Nico D'Angelo. Sleepless eyes with heavy dark bags didn't impair his fighting capabilities in any way. He trailed his target: an inferior Nicholaz fighter of the Russian Nationalists front. He fired his machine guns, suppressing any counter-actions that the enemy could come up with. Keeping him preoccupied. His aim-locking sensors slowly locked onto his target. He fired his first heat-seeking missile.

Expectedly, the pilot launched flares, rendering Nico's missile useless. Nico veered his jet upwards, breaking through the clouds soon enough. Once he was above the clouds, he lowered his jet, racing towards the ground. His plane hummed with energy, something that wasn't felt in any way by the pilot. He wasn't humming with energy, he wasn't filled to the brink with adrenaline from the fight. He was just looking to defeat another enemy so that he could land and go for lunch.

There.

He spotted his enemy, flying at cruising speed. A shape within the sun, the enemy pilot was impaired in his visual fighting capabilities. Nico opened fire, his 40mm cannons tearing through the aluminium in the chassis of the enemy fighter plane. The jet exploded in a shower of fireworks, debris raining down to the ground. Nico felt a soul sniffed out, and enter the underworld.

Nico took a deep breath. He stabilised his jet and set the auto-pilot on. Opening his notebook stashed within a pouch on his vest, he scratched another line, adding to the fifty already present. He turned his plane around, making for Vladivostok Air Base.

On his way back to the airfield, he felt his thoughts drift into memories

" _I'm sorry, son.". Those words rang out clear as yesterday. The day his father and mother abandoned him to the orphanage of Epirus. They had always been poor, and their family simply had no way to afford him, they justified. His new caretaker from the orphanage guided him towards the dull brick building, fake sweetness dripping from her voice._

 _It didn't take him very long to be shunned by the inhabitants. The orphans, those who were so much like him in uncountable ways, shunned him. The caretakers, who were supposed to make life bearable for people like him, shunned him. He felt so alone. So, so alone. Hopelessness plagued him on sleepless nights._

 _He was eventually adopted, at the age of ten, by the small and sweet Solace family. They had a son around the same age as him, Will. His cold demeanour developed over years of mental abuse cracked in the face of his cheerful character. They would play and interact with each other for countless hours every day. They started going to school together, scoring high grades and girls alike. Double dates and girlfriends became a common trait in their teenage years. His new family integrated him into their family. And eventually, his younger, turbulent years were pushed to the edge of his mind and memories._

 _The ground was shaken by a deadly explosion. The shockwave sent Nico sprawling to the ground, multiple scratches and cuts adorning his pale skin. His head rang, deafening his hearing and shaking his senses. He got up to his knees and saw people running about in pandemonium. Closely, he saw his family lying on the ground, unmoving. He got up, mindless thoughts addling his mind. He crawled over. His parents were lying on the ground, unmoving. Lifeless eyes showed that they were dead. Nico felt a tug in his stomach. He looked for Will._

 _There. Several metres away from his parents, away from the blast. He was bleeding from his head, and unconscious. Nico fished out his smartphone from his pocket, the screen was cracked, but still functioned properly. Wiping the debris away from the screen, he called an ambulance._

 _Everything afterwards was a blur. He faintly remembered the paramedics hoisting Will onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. He saw his adoptive parents wrapped in a black body bag, emergency workers closing their eyes and placing a golden drachma under their tongues. The ambulance sped along the highway, heading for the nearest hospital. He remembered Will's pulse flat-lining. And the paramedics performing CPR. He remembered the moment when they gave up and gave him their condolences. Absent-mindedly, he pulled out a golden drachma from his wallet, placed it under his tongue, and kissed his forehead goodbye. A minute later, they were at the hospital._

 _He didn't sleep that night. He couldn't. He lay awake on his bed in the Solace house, the TV in his house turned to the news feed on the bombing. He had the house to himself until Solace's relatives come to fight over it. He estimated that he had about three weeks. He cried himself to sleep that night. I'm an orphan again._

 _Three weeks passed in a blur. He broke up with his girlfriend, Marissa. He had learnt of the terrorist organisation responsible: The Liberators, with ties and funding from the Roman Empire and a goal to liberate Greek territories. It's hypocritical, considering how the Greek's colonies still had autonomy in its member states while the Romans annexed theirs directly. He had packed his belongings into two bags. Stuffing clothes and memoirs of his family and what could have been his family. He headed to the nearest enlistment centre._

 _His soul burned with revenge for his adoptive family. His high grades and near perfect eyesight allowed him to become part of Epirus' Air Force. Within a year of training, he was given his wings, and a year after, he became a fighter ace._

By the time his thoughts drifted back to the mission at hand, he was sitting in his cockpit, staring into space. He was on the ground again, and ground crews were already tending to his lightly damaged aircraft.

"Another one?" Marcus, the engineer asked, opening his cockpit.

Nico sighed, "yeah", stepping out of the cockpit.

Marcus nodded in understanding. "Boss is looking for you in the control tower, by the way."

Nico heaved a sigh. Another session of Antonius chewing him out for crowding the runway. He jogged to the control tower, a squat building four stories high. It housed the majority of the air base's electronic equipment, and were tasked with guiding pilots and commanding the air base's defences. He ran up the stairs running adjacent to the side of the building, two at a time. He opened the door, where air major Antonius Clytia was waiting, standing with his hands behind his back.

"Sir." He said, attaining the attention of the major. He raised his hands into a salute as the major turned towards him. He gave the obligatory salute, and Nico lowered his hand.

The major studied him, and said: "we'll talk in the office." Gesturing to the personnel sitting behind him.

Vladivostok airbase was not a large airfield. They operated two landing strips of about three thousand metres, one for landing and one for taking off. It houses two squadrons of Aelous fighter jets. Mainly used as an airfield for an escort from the heavier bombers flying from Tokyo, the air base didn't need to maintain a large contingent of aeroplanes. It also housed three hundred support crews and a hundred auxiliary defence personnel, mainly to defend against incursions from rogue forces near the airfield, holding out important structures before ground forces could be sent from the nearby Vladivostok military base, which housed two divisions of infantry and an armoured regiment.

Nico trailed five paces behind the major, careful not to intrude into the major's private space. Upon entering the Major's rather sparse office, he closed the door, glancing at the major take a seat on a cushioned chair, placing a large folder on his desk.

"Sit" he commanded.

Nico did as told, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible without looking disrespectful. 

"Graduated top of the class of 2015. Experience in the Moscow front, Montreal, India and over the Hawaiian islands. Over fifty confirmed kills. Disturbing personal background, psychological issues and flying skills on the level of Hector, all at the age of eighteen and with two years of warfare experience." Major Antonius summed up, closing the file.

Nico sat unmovingly. He hated when people dabbled into his personal history. It said too much about him, and who he was. His face betrayed no emotions.

"You're being transferred. Greece needs you more than I do, Lieutenant D'Angelo. Your squadron is being posted to Epirus Air Field

-The Diplomat-

Athens

Annabeth's head was in turmoil. Her mind still on the events that took place two days ago. Even now, in her spacious office in The Acropolis in Athens. She stared blankly into the paintings adorning her white-walled office. Beautiful, less known art pieces from various artists such as Van Gogh and Henry Matisse. Annabeth was able to maintain an otherwise expensive art collection through her ingenious use of connections and determination for inspiration in her office. Her eyes were set on "The bombing of Guernica" by Picasso, which was based on the uprising of the people of the Iberian population, who were brutally put down by the legions of Rome, committing war atrocities that would be condemned by the Greeks.

Her secretary, Malcolm, looked at her in concern.

"Can't shake it, huh?" He inquired.

Annabeth just nodded her head. The Romans backing out of the talks and not communicating with them increased her anxiety. She could feel the tensions between their two sovereign states building up again.

Her buzzer rang, and Malcolm picked it up. She observed her secretary and noted his otherwise neutral facial expression turn grim. He put down the phone: " There's an immediate session for all Representatives starting in thirty minutes. I suggest you make your way down."

Annabeth's mind raced with apprehension. And yet, in the back of her brilliant mind, she could imagine what it would be about. She gathered her necessary items. Notepad, stationary, smartphone and thoughts and ideas. She made her way to the Court of representatives. She opened the engraved, heavy double doors leading to the grand room that is the Court of Representatives. The court itself formed a semi-circle, with a podium at the centre with a large screen behind it. It was equipped with a microphone attached to the podium stand and a large screen necessary for presentations to brief all relevant members of the Greek states.

The hall was already half filled with representatives. From all of the core Greek states and its allies, as well as its satellite states which had a place and a say in Greek politics. In total, there were about a hundred seats in the hall.

Previously, when the Greek states were disjointed and independent, they could hold literal democracy within the large amphitheatre within its city. All citizens were invited and they could all vote on important matters within the state. However, with the coalition forming, it would become impossible for this to occur as no one amphitheatre could hold all the citizens of the Greek states, given its large size and larger population. Now, individual city-states would elect Ten representatives into the Court of Representatives. Each representative would represent a certain demographic from the state. As a result, the Court had to be able to hold over a thousand representatives, who would meet and vote on important issues regarding what the Greek states should achieve.

Before she could reach her designated seat at the middle left of the hall, she was approached by a fuming Agatha Leonidas. Hot-headed and eager for war and the most prominent senator hailing from Sparta. He regarded her with disdain, and Annabeth's every instinct was to shrink in fear from the oddly unpredictable man.

"I heard you were the reason the Romans walked out of the meeting." He remarked.

Annabeth's first reaction was to retort. That she wasn't the one that caused the Romans to retire from the meetings impromptu. But she knew she could have influenced that decision with her rebellious attitude and by speaking out of turn from her more experienced colleagues. However, it seemed unlikely that they would forsake relations and all forms of diplomacy for the sake of a young representative who spoke out of line.

"We shall see what the Romans are up to. And if this precarious situation does result in war. We will know who is to blame when Spartan soldiers die on the battlefield." Leonidas remarked before walking to take his seat at the front of the hall.

As if on cue, Odysseus Diodes, chairperson of the court, banged a gavel on a flat wooden surface to create a loud noise. "If everyone would take their seats, this court is now in session." Annabeth took her seat, next to Ireneus Draco, a hardline conservative twenty years her senior. Ireneus gave her a cold look but said nothing. Fucking hell. Annabeth thought while taking out her notepad. It seems like everyone has something against me now. "This court is now in session. While it is in session, representatives of each state, protectorate or ally of the United Greek City States may raise any issue, disputes, claims or interests to the United Greek States. This claim, or otherwise, must be backed with sufficient evidence and a suitable explanation to back your stance."

The first issue that came forth was from the fifth representative of the protectorate of Los Angeles. A promising young woman called Katie Gardner who brought up an issue with the inefficient distribution of food in her state. She called for increased funding into distribution methods and technological advancements to mitigate this problem. It was accepted as a basis of an argument and proceeded to the voting floor, which is always held three days after a general assembly.

The next speaker was General Miltiades of Athens. A competent and highly respected general within the Greek states. Annabeth immediately noted his grim expression and slightly pale complexion. He started off with a greeting," Good afternoon, representatives." A chorus, which Annabeth didn't join, answered.

He cleared his throat, organised his notes, all in the deafening silence and apprehension from the court. "I've risen to the podium today, to discuss a very serious threat." He clicked on the first slide. I showed a grainy, photo taken from one of the Epirus spy-planes "Hades". "This, albeit grainy photo, shows us clearly that the ballistic missile silos located deep within the Roman territories of Neapolis on the Roman peninsula, Alexandria in Egypt, Munich in Germany, Oslo in Norway and New York in the New World. These silos, as you would know, have been recommissioned within these last few weeks. Our intelligence units claim that they will have to undergo multiple repairs before they can be used feasibly again, but it is in progress.

Miltiades continued onto the next slide. "This is the amount of money spent by the Roman Empire this past year. A figure of 50 trillion drachmas, or roughly 63.3 trillion Aureus, in conversion to Roman currency." Next slide. "Within this stagnating GDP growth of roughly 1.13%, Rome has increased spending on its military, going from roughly six trillion Aureus to a high number of seven and a half trillion Aureus, a striking twenty-five per cent increase. Second highest in this century since the reign of Emperor Nero.

Gasps of disbelief were heard throughout the Court. Emperor Nero had widely been considered to be one of the worst and cruellest emperors throughout Rome's history, far surpassing his namesake from Ancient Rome. He had largely been responsible for the last war in the late 1930s and had been the bane for Rome's highly paced industrialisation process that was occurring throughout the country at the time. Causing a stagnation in its economy as resources and manpower had to be pumped into branches of the military. Seven years later and with hundreds of millions dead, Rome ended the war with the Greeks in a white peace. Territories largely remained unchanged, with the only changes being that Greece had gained a large foothold in the New World with them acquiring the highly industrialised and popularised east coast.

Next slide. It showed a tactical map of Roman and Greek divisions, with Greek divisions highlighted by their iconic letter Omega, and the Roman's with an SPQR insignia. "The Romans have increased their presence in multiple border fronts and could be observed to bring in more armour and artillery divisions and regiments. Both of which are highly suited for an offensive war. This is in line with their increased economic spending as I have mentioned earlier."

The projector shut off, and General Miltiades continued, with a grim expression," I am afraid, representatives, so, very afraid. Because it seems like the Roman war machine has started again. And I am afraid, that this time, we will be caught off guard. Ladies and gentlemen, from the Greek archipelago to the Islands of Japan, from the old world to the new, we must prepare for war, once more."

Author's note: So, I guess this wraps this chapter. As always, thank you for viewing my story, and feel free to give your opinion in reviews, I will try to address them in the subsequent chapters.

SpartanBoy: not gonna happen, I feel that the "Percy the admiral" story arc has been overused in many different "mortals-only" storylines. In the previous chapter, Perseus A.K.A Percy killed the Emperor, and it would be pretty hard to tie those two knots together.

I kinda see the situation between the Greeks and Romans as the situation in the mid-30s between France and Germany. France became complacent from their victory in WW1. Obviously, I'm generalising about a lot of things, but that's just how I saw it, and why they surrendered within 6 weeks of the French Campaign. Greece is kinda like that, and the Romans, like Nazi Germany, spent large sums of money on war, both war equipment and manpower, and are looking for revenge for the past. (Treaty of Versailles for Germany, and the death of their emperor in this story)

Next chapter will probably be out within the end of the month. With all that said and out of the way. Thank you all once again, and see you soon!

-Ninjabuddhism.

Historical references:

Hector: The Hero, and prince, of Troy in their war against the Greeks, with fighting skills to match Achilles, the Greek's equivalent. It is implied in this story that he was the best fighter pilot before Nico.

Miltiades: The Athenian general responsible for the Greek victory against the Persians in the Battle of Marathon, where he and roughly 11,000 Greeks counter attacked the larger 30,000 Persians on the beaches of Attica, when they were unloading supplies to supplement their invasion of Greece.

"The Bombing of Guernica" by Pablo Picasso: A art piece inspired by the Spanish Civil War where the Germans bombed the town of Guernica extensively, killing vast numbers of civilians with the new air force. In this context, it will be applied to the previous war the Greeks fought against the Romans.

Agatha Leonidas: Reference to the Spartan King Leonidas. Best known for his stand in the pass of Thermopylae against the much more numerous Persian army. He and his army of 300 Spartans held the pass for 3 days, using the near-invincible Phalanx formation, and unwavering Spartan discipline. The force of 300 Spartans and 7000 Greeks were defeated when they were betrayed by Ephialtes, a local.

Odysseus: A famous Greek hero, and battle tactician. The tales of Odysseus by Greek Philosopher Homer was based on this hero. He participated in the war between Greece and Troy on the side of the Greeks, and the use of the Trojan horse was said to be his idea.


	4. Eye of the Storm

Chapter 4: Eye of the Storm

-Caesar-

The Colosseum was loud, very loud. Deafening, with tens of thousands of Romans, rich and poor, from Iberia to Nigeria, Commoner to Senator. All chanting one thing in unison: "Death!". In the dusty circular arena, a man fought with all his strength, parrying, blocking, slashing and stabbing with his gladius and hide shield. His opponent? A great, muscled lion from the vast savannah of Central Africa.

The man - gladiator - a lean, muscled man in his early twenties, gasped for air, his lungs working desperately to attend to the needs of his straining muscles. Long, red, ugly lines adorned his unprotected torso and legs, courtesy of the lion before him. Dark hair matted with sweat clung to his forehead. The lion pounced again, and where the man had once been lucky, he was no longer. The former convict turned gladiator had his throat slashed from the lion's throats. Where the gladiator died, the people roared with cheer.

Fifteen stories above in the Emperor's stand, Jason Grace looked over his subjects in disdain. _What a bunch of degenerates_. He thought. It wasn't politically correct, nor will the people appreciate his comments. Hence he kept it to himself and maintained a neutral expression. He didn't personally want this fight today, but it was demanded when a new Caesar takes the Roman throne. "Celebration", they called it. _This is a waste of time and money that Rome could spend otherwise, and barbaric as well_. He thought. Stable boys dragged the body away, leaving a trail or red across the arena floor. Guards herded the lion away with electrified prodding rods, and cleaners scrubbed the blood off the floor for the next form of entertainment.

The Colosseum went silent. All one hundred thousand occupants expectantly waiting for the Emperor to give the command to commence the next game. Jason let the tension build up, and when the silence was deafening and tense, he clapped his hands. The crowd roared, and the massive doors on opposite sides of the Colosseum opened up, a dozen men from each side marched out, wearing mismatched pieces of armour and weapons. One wore a legionnaire's helm, another a leather breastplate, and so on. They started to engage each other, slashing and stabbing with brutal precision. But Jason's mind was elsewhere.

 _His father's body was embalmed with chemicals, to preserve the body to last till the end of time, it was unnatural, Jason thought. Bodies should decay and return to the Earth. But Rome would see its Emperors preserved in a holy burial ground that was accessible to the public once a year for residents to pay respect. Two lines of Praetorian guards escorted the horse-drawn carriage bearing his late father's body. On the sides of the avenue, hundreds of citizens looked on, their expression differing from grief, ignorance, and indifference. Ten paces behind the procession, Jason Grace sat on a beautiful white horse, yet all he wore was black. His expression conveyed sadness, of which he didn't feel as much as his expression showed._

 _He was never really close to his father, and what interactions he did have with his father was regarding his upbringing to become a more competent Emperor loyal to Rome's interests. Since the age of seven, he regularly trained with bodyguards, learning how to wield a sword, throw a spear, and shoot an assault rifle of different calibres. In the afternoons, he would have lessons to commander great armies, drawing on the vast libraries within the palace's library, studying strategies from brilliant generals. From Hannibal to Napoleon, from Miltiades to Rommel._

 _His nights were spent either reading, or if his father arranged an event he saw fit to allow his son to partake in, he would be dressed in fine suits to meet businessmen, councillors, senators and generals. And as he grew older, the sort of company he was introduced to changed as well. Going from friendly conversations with his father's advisors to conversations with "eligible" young women coming from the upper end of the social hierarchy. Noblewomen from all over the Roman Empire, from nobles from Iberia to local families based in Rome, Neapolis, Antrium, or more exotic lands such as those from the former Persian and Babylonian empire, or the Kingdom of Egypt._

 _And yet, none of these women who he met over the years really left a lasting impression on him, they just…came and went, really. All eligible women of noble birth came to Rome to strike at the heart of Rome's crown prince and ultimately failed._

The crowd's synchronised roar brought him out of his musings, it turns out that one group of gladiators have emerged victorious, although they have taken some casualties, out of the dozen that each team had, only three had made it out alive. The rest were in various forms and states of decapitations, scattered throughout the arena. Jason quickly shooed his hand, signalling the crew members to drag away the dead bodies.

The next round of entertainment has begun. On Jason's cue, the entire Colosseum was flooded up to the point where the stands where the seats started were able to be sprayed by the salt water. Four large triremes were brought into the Colosseum, and the master of entertainment, Cornelius Von Hausmann from Germania grabbed the microphone, and in his deep and rough accent, described the battle for Carthage Nova. A strategic coastal city on the Iberian peninsula that had been controlled by the Carthaginians, whoever controlled that vital fortress controlled Iberia and Carthage's control and sphere of influence over Europa.

Jason had read about the battle, and how, despite a Roman victory, it was not due to Rome's underwhelming army that seized the day, but rather Rome's legions, who were responsible for storming the fortress and killing any loyalists in the city. And yet, as the re-enactment went on, it was evident that someone had tampered with history rather unfairly. Of the four ships inside the Colosseum, two were Roman, and two were Carthaginian. However, one of Carthage's ships were on fire, and the other was being peppered by arrows from Roman ships. Jason stared at the "re-enactment" in disgust. It was entertaining and flattering to see Rome's might displayed on such a scale, but utterly inaccurate, especially during those times when Rome invested heavily into its armies and had only a token force to show for its navy.

At his side, sitting on a gold carved throne, was his betrothed, Julia Augusta from the old Augustus family. She was certainly very beautiful, and charming in her own way. With dazzling green eyes, a full set of lips, braided blonde hair and an hourglass figure.

She possessed an unlikely wit that he didn't think she had and was rather strategic in the games of chess that they played together, albeit rather infrequently. To say that he had feelings for her, however, would have been a misconception. He had no feelings for her. At best, he would say that they were friends, their relationship fragile and new to say the least. But the more Jason came to know her, he could start to see why she was so desirable as an Empress and a wife.

He still couldn't keep his thoughts away from Piper, however. That wild and beautiful girl he will have to forsake for his duty to Rome. He wanted to cry, to let out his anguish at the unfairness. He wished that he didn't have the title of a noble, or a Caesar so that he could marry for love. It ached him, but he had to bury it deep within himself, to get through this nest of snakes in the Royal Court. If anyone were to find out that this girl still held a place in his heart, she could become a target to hold influence over him, like blackmail.

Jason shook these worrying thoughts. He looked to his side to see Octavian, seemingly bored out of his mind at such a lowly display of human savagery. It seems their interests were aligned in their field of entertainment. Jason stood up from his golden carved throne.

"Octavian, let's go. There are important matters to talk about."

"Yes, Caesar." He bowed respectfully, and followed Jason out, followed by the four armed Praetorian Guards.

The distance between the Royal Palace and the Colosseum was rather short, but nothing that didn't require a special envoy of his personal armoured vehicle that reeked of luxury and subtle protection, as well as an armed entourage of military police and his personal guards. Jason rolled his eyes at the display of protection that his security detail was so anxious on providing.

The ride back to the palace was rather uneventful, neither individual talked, there were no waving crowds on the streets, and they made it back to the palace in record time.

The royal palace of Rome was designed like the palace in ancient Rome, much of the architecture was there, but has been renovated over the years to keep up with technological advancements. Now, technology was incorporated into the palace subtly in the form of automated doors and security cameras the size of buttons.

The two of them entered Jason's study, the four guards accompanying them remaining outside. Octavian looked around. He had been here many times, but it seems like he could never get around the magnitude of importance that this room had. Choices were made here that decided the fate of Ancient Rome.

Jason turned to face him. Octavian seemed a smart man. Ambitious, for sure, but Jason could use that in the interests of Rome. He simply needed Octavian to align his own interests with those of Rome.

"I have an important diplomatic mission for you," Jason said suddenly.

Octavian's eyebrows rose at his words, his eyes gleaming with interest.

"If we are to pursue an aggressive foreign policy against the Greeks, we will need the element of surprise, should negotiations break down and war erupts. Thrace has been an independent nation since their revolt in 1985, breaking away from the Greek state. The Greeks have never sought to claim it back by force. Neither have we sought to gain Thrace as an ally, important though they may be. That ends with your mission, should you accept."

The gears in Octavian's head were turning, and his eyebrows were scrunched up, deep in thought.

"If…I were to accept, and Thrace somehow becomes our ally, how would that help?"

Jason smirked. He walked over to a table, leaning over it. The table showcased a leather map, with Greek and Roman divisions highlighted in blue and red.

"While the border between Thrace and Greece is fortified with troops and turret emplacements, it is not heavily fortified in comparison to the Greco-Roman border. Moreover, since the congressional meeting that the Greeks had two months ago, reinforcements have grown fifty per cent along the border, but only a fraction of that percentage has been assigned to the Thracian border. A secret alliance between the Thracians and us will ensure that we could spearhead along their border, cutting deep into Greek territory. Their northern defensive line will collapse, and their forces will be encircled."

Octavian looked up, he seemed nervous. "what about our other territories in the Americas and Africa?"

"Our forces in Africa will be guarding the coastline, with seven legions stationed to guard the Suez canal. In America, no grand battle plan has been drawn yet, but we control most of the states there, and our puppet will come in useful in deterring any threats that they may face against the Greeks."

Jason stood up straight, confidence shining in his eyes.

Only to be lost with Octavian's next question.

"If I were to fail in this mission, and the Thracians stand by with their stance of neutrality, or worse, become an ally of the Greeks, what then? I trust you have a contingency plan?"

Jason's confidence wavered at this. "If the Thracians reject our offer, then we will be at an impasse. We could either back out of our hollow threats and attempt to restore diplomatic ties with the Greeks. Our people will lose support in our government and me as a figurehead."

Jason took a deep breath."The second option would be to strike in the Americas. Win decisively there and slowly push the Greeks back. However, it would be entirely within the realm of possibility that it would eventually boil down into an attritional war. The Greek defensive line on our immediate borders are too strong, their most elite divisions guarding important strategic locations. The Pacific ocean and Greek's naval superiority would deter any naval invasion into Eurasia from our American colonies, and Greek puppets in the Indian subcontinent would guard against incursions that we may undertake."

"I need you to accept, Octavian. You are Rome's most competent senator right now. You're not as arrogant as the Old Guard, you are quick-witted and present yourself well. With the Thracians on our side, a Dominant Rome is possible. Once we strike at the capital and capture it, Greek morale will drop, and a Roman victory will be possible."

Octavian looked over the map. After several seconds in deep thought. He stood up straight and looked at Jason in the eye.

"I will ensure that your wishes become a reality, Caesar. I won't fail you." Octavian said.

Jason put a hand on his shoulder, smiled, then whispered, "Thank you. I ensure it, if you come back successful, we, the people of the Roman Empire, and I, Caesar, will be indebted to you. You will leave tonight."

Octavian nodded, and shouted, "Senatus Populusque Romanus". He turned his back, and walked out the door, the magnitude of the task weighing down on him, it felt good.

-Prisoner-

Arkadia maximum security prison, outskirts of Rome

The bright light within the prison cell no longer blinded Perseus. He had grown used to it. He had faced worse things here. Torture, both physical and mental, had been inflicted on his now fragile body for months. And his body has suffered for it. Multiple bruises and slashes adorned his semi-tanned skin. He still remembered the day he was captured.

 _Perseus froze, caught like a deer in headlights. The praetorian guards, upon seeing their dead emperor at his feet, blood-soaked knife in hand, raised their weapons, pointed in his direction. Perseus turned around and jumped._

 _The open study was three stories up into the air. Upon landing, pain shot up his leg. He could've struck the landing a little better. He got up, pain evident on his face, He limped away from the palace. Above, Praetorian guards shot stun from stun guns. One of these stun gun shells hit Perseus in the torso. He let out a yelp of pain, the harsh electricity numbing his body. He fell flat on his face, unmoving with an occasional electrical twitch, Perseus's vision went black._

 _He woke several hours later, in a prison cell. He has changed out his clothes into those suiting a prisoner. Gone were his tight suit of black, now he wore mundane striped clothing of black and white._

 _Fucking hell, its bright. Perseus thought._

 _Indeed, the cell was bright. Harsh, white light from fluorescent bulbs was placed on the ceilings of the prison, covered by what seemed like a plastic cover to prevent prisoners from disabling the lights. Perseus took in his surroundings. A simple toilet in a corner, and a hard-looking bed in the other. There was a simple table with nothing on it. Curiously, in the middle, there was a large wooden cross in the shape of an 'X'. There were straps on the four ends of the cross._

 _Blood drained from his face, it didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of activities were conducted on the cross._

 _As if on cue, the dull, metal door to his cell opened. Three armed guards entered, followed by a man that resembled the Emperor's Praetorian guard, beside him was a man dressed in simple red robes. In his hand, he carried a pouch, which he set on the table._

 _The fear on his face was potent. At this, he smirked menacingly._

" _Doctor, do your duty."_

 _The torturer nodded his head in understanding. "Get him onto the cross." The armed guards moved as one, each taking an arm while all Perseus could do was resist, hoping to get some traction on the ground to resist being pulled. All it did was delay the inevitable. His arms were pulled apart and were strapped onto the cross. The guards bent down and did the same for his legs, trying their best to avoid his frantic kicks._

 _*Smack!*_

 _A sharp right hook by the Praetorian eliminated Perseus' resistance. His glare was fixated on the guard, his eyes burning with hate._

" _leave us." The Praetorian guard commanded._

 _The armed prison guards did as told. They closed the door behind them and turned to guard the doorway. The Praetorian guard turned his head around to face Perseus._

 _Meanwhile, the "doctor" that was in charge of his torture produced a small knife from his pouch, holding it up into the light to see it glint. He strode towards Perseus, not wasting any time. He pressed the cold blade onto his skin, just above the muscles on his chest._

" _This might hurt." He said jokingly._

 _Before Perseus could react, he pushed the blade in, and dragged it downwards, opening up a large gash. Perseus let out a muffled groan, determined to keep his voice down. To not give the Romans the satisfaction of seeing him suffer. But as the blade continued its path downwards, he screamed._

Perseus sat unmoving on the cross. They have only unchained him once every day to piss and shit. But even then, every so often, the torture will get to him that he would piss in his pants, resulting in a yellow stain that smelled. If anything, it reduced the time for each torture session. _The bed and table are just another form of psychological torture._ He speculated.

The door opened once more, and Perseus bristled. This time, four Praetorian guards entered the now cramped room, followed by a young man dressed lavishly in golden silks. A golden laurel wreath crowned his forehead, and electric blue eyes met-ocean green ones.

 **Authors Note: Well, that wraps up this chapter, sorry for the delay. I was caught up in some personal problems that I had to get over. Those problems will likely continue for some time, so I updates would become more infrequent (if that is even possible). I will be introducing two new characters in the next two chapters. People who guess correctly will get a cookie ;) (Metaphorically).**

 **I'll try to come up with the next chapter by this month. I already have an outline for the next two chapters, so I'll try to fill it in ASAP.**

 ***Clap Clap* Review review!**

JC RH (Regarding chapter 1): "I have only read the Prologue yet, but damn dude. You write em well. This is really well written. And this is a perfect set up. And I must say, I would love it if you're able to continue this until you reach your target. It's always refreshing to read long fanfictions which are not abandoned."

 **-Thanks, man.**

JC RH (Regarding chapter 2): "Nice going. The modern and realistic take is pretty cool. But even I am pretty interested where you'd go with Percy. After all, the who the whole saga is named after him. I must say, I would love it if Percy takes a leading role in the war. But as you said after an assassination, him representing greeks is practically waging war. But then again Percy could have destroyed all the evidence 'wink'. Ohh and, Would there be a pairing and who'd it be?

Nice going early in the story. Don't let the steam die down. Also, trying to focus on both fronts of the war is a brave attempt, but it could backfire. It would be just too big. If I had to compare it would have to be similar to A Song of Ice and Fire. But then again that's up to you to pull off :P

I can't wait for the next chapter. Good luck."

 **-Thanks for the constructive criticism, I'm trying to make this story more of a "Heroes of Olympus" take, meaning a focus on more characters. Rick Riordan even gave us some new character perspectives such as Reyna and Nico in "Blood of Olympus", so I guess that's the focus that I would be going on.**

 **As of right now, I don't have any focuses in mind, I haven't worked out how to bring the major characters together well and seamlessly. If I do come up with any pairings, it would be towards the end of the story, I suppose. Again, thank you for your review.**

JC RH (Chapter 3): "By the way, this is just my opinion, but do try to come up with a better name. The Eternal War does not suit this story and it just too common. Just my opinion.

And probably bring it to a T rating. As much as I love this M rating, a T rating would help reach a bigger audience. But that is as long as the rating change doesn't harm the flow of the story."

 **-To be honest, for the story title, I drew inspiration from a book I read some time ago. It's from the Time Riders series by Alex Scarrow called "The Eternal War". I won't spoil it, but the storyline is essentially the same as this story. I have tried some options, but it didn't really click with me, feel free to leave any suggestions**

 **For the rating, I want to leave it at M for story flexibility. I have plans for major cussing (Especially when war breaks out), and some lemons (for future pairings), although those could be implied. As for now, with my current plans for this story, I'll leave it at that, maybe I'll change it in the future.**

I Am Definitely Jeff Bridges: " This looks like a really interesting take - I'm looking forward to seeing where you take this, and especially how you plan on tying all the characters' stories together!"

- **Thank you.**

Next chapter: Octavian forges an alliance, a commander faces the enemy, and the threat of war looms over all of Greece.


	5. Dying Peace

Chapter 5: Brink.

"To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace."

George Washington

-Fifteenth Mycenae phalanx division, "Nike", Greco-Roman border, sector Seventeen Beta-Commanding officer: Major Clarisse La Rue

The sting of napalm was in the air. Clarisse breathed it all in, relishing the smell of border conflict. Some might call her "crazy" or "battle hungry" for her aggressive tactics. But as long as it worked, Clarisse saw no reason to change her strategy.

Their sector had erected a temporary, military base. For convenience and for logistics sake. It made sense as well, with the border five miles away, it could relay communications and allow for an adjustment of strategy based on what the Romans threw at them.

Her tactics never proved her wrong either. Her battle hardened division of veterans of countless wars were recognizable from all over Greece, the conflicts that they partook in ranging. From uprisings such as the Russia national front, or insurgency operations in the unstable Middle eastern region of Persia and Asia Minor, to the wet jungles of the Dutch East Indies, winning all their battles against savages and inferior, but more numerous enemies. Now, her division had been recalled from foreign tours to join the rising border conflicts between the Greeks and the Romans.

War was brewing. And oddly enough, Clarisse was looking forward to it. She had grown tired of foreign incursions against enemies who were unworthy of her assault rifle and short spear. She had witnessed first hand how brutally effective Rome's legions were, and wanted to go head to head against their best.

She surveyed her men below, working on erecting defensive structures along the base. Their sector had erected a temporary, military base. For convenience and for logistics sake. It made sense as well, with the border five miles away, it could relay communications and allow for an adjustment of strategy based on what the Romans threw at them, and was compact enough that it allowed them to pack their most essential items and retreat, should they have to.

Right now, her division was entrusted with defensive structures. She decided to allow for a flexible, non-static defensive strategy of the military base. With the base spanning two square kilometres, she tasked her men with building a mixture of natural and non-natural obstacles, with tank traps littered among them to render the terrain impassable. The only way in and out of the base would be through the cardinal directions – North, South, East and West -, there machine gun posts and sentry turrets manned with anti tank crews were ordered to fire. Mobile Anti-aircraft missile launchers placed in key locations to maximise mission efficiency.

Over the weeks leading up till now, diplomatic ties between the two nations have been severed, and a general briefing of all commanding officers was held, explaining the fragile peace between them. Any notion of conflict could result in war. The consequences would be dire.

Clarisse shook these thoughts from her head, and went back to work.

-Annabeth-

Embassy of the Roman Empire, Athens.

Among her fellow representatives and police investigators, she stood in the abandoned embassy. Loose pieces of paper littered the floor, cabinets filled with paper hastily emptied. The grand chandelier twinkled with grand in the ambient lighting, the atmosphere ruined by the state of cleanliness it was in.

This was just another step in the breakdown of diplomacy between their two states. This tumble snowballing, with war at the end of the hill. Annabeth shuddered at the thought. In the last war, seventy million souls were lost, and the untold suffering of physical, mental and economic were severe. It took decades for the two nations to recover.

The Romans had hastily vacated from their grand embassy from the boulevard of embassies in Athens, with their diplomats, and their families departing in the early morning from a private airfield. The clerks and other employees in the embassy were left to find some other means of transportation to cross the border.

Annabeth turned to face Odysseus, and started to utter a word. But before she could do so, he turned his back on her to talk to the chief of police

"We need to keep the situation silent from the public, no one must know about this. Only the people in this room are to know the true extent of what is going on, understood?"

The police chief gave a sharp nod, and turned to relay his orders to his adjutants.

Odysseus turned back to Annabeth, and said," We're not done. 1:00 PM, meet me in my office."

He briskly walked out the front door, his assistants keeping pace behind him.

Annabeth sighed in discontent, and turned her wrist to glance at her watch. _Five hours._ Just five hours to make sense of the Roman's next move.

"Malcolm, lets go". She gestured at her blonde haired secretary. Together they left.

Returning to her office, she laid her various work items on the desk, and slouched in the seat, hands covering her face.

Throughout millenia, whenever the Greeks fought the Romans, or vice versa, it always lead to large amounts of resources, such as men, equipment, production and money into fighting, as well as raw resources such as grain, wood, and more recently, coal and oil. With each war that broke out, the death toll rose in proportion. What started out thousands of years ago with perhaps ten thousand casualties throughout the duration of the war would manifest itself into ten thousand casualties in, perhaps an hour or so. Given improvements in technology and battle tactics, casualties would be horrendous. And oftentimes, after a war, there would be a economic or political crisis of some kind. Recessions could occur and when the suffering of a people becomes too great, or if either government is too incompetent to solve the nation's problems, then extremist groups will pop up. Between the wars of 1796 and 1939, there was a time when Greece was ruled by an Authoritarian Government, to help bring back the country from the brink of economic collapse after the market crash due to the Tulip bubble popping. It helped, for a while. A single figurehead and a fascist regime helped concentrate their efforts into rebuilding the country, albeit in a more war mongering way. During the rapid industrialisation of the 19th century, many factories were set up to cater to the needs of Greece's new war machine. However, the government lost a large percentage of their support from the people, who yearned for the old days of Democracy. A coup was staged, and a Democratic government was put into power.

Some have questioned if this was done by the Roman Empire, who's military capability was much smaller than the Greek's, due to their rapid industrialisation. The fact that the new government policy was more lenient towards Foreign policy was proof of such a conspiracy. This new party stayed in power for over forty years, and saw a thawing in Greco-Roman relations.

This system of government is still in place in Greece's political system, but the winds of war are picking up once again, and perhaps, it will not last.

-Nico-

Epirus, Greece

A large mug of coffee was left unattended on a nearby low lying table. Nico sat on the cushioned wooden chair, intently reading an article on the Athenian Herald.

Epirus sat roughly two thousand kilometres from the Greek Roman Border, tracing the coastline of the Ionian sea between the Balkans and the Roman peninsula. It houses many key administrative buildings for the nation, housing the Headquarters for Trade and Income, and defence. It also maintained a strong military presence, housing multiple dockyards and military bases for defensive and offensive operations.

It also housed the fighter squadron that Nico was posted to. Now, it almost seemed like Major Antonius was laughing at him, posting him to the city where he experienced some of his most fond memories, and most tragic experiences.

Nico sighed, and closed the screen of his laptop computer. He was reading on the headlines of the news. About how Greece and its puppet allies signed a hastily erected armistice with the Russians. They had given up half of their won territory, although much of the resources from the Caucasus and Ural mountains were to be shipped to fuel the Greek economy. The Autumn Armistice, they called it.

There was widespread protest for their Government's decisions. Nico couldn't exactly blame the masses. After winning such vast territories, for the Greeks to just…give up. It wasn't unlike them. And to let the Russians keep their hostile government and let their armies remain intact, it simply didn't bode well with the public.

Nico himself was rather confused by their move as well, and to add to it, his redeployment to Greece raised some questions as well.

Nico rubbed the bridge of his nose, and brought the mug to his lips, savouring the now lukewarm liquid as it ran down his throat, filling his veins with caffeine and energy.

He opened his eyes, grabbed a jacket, and headed out the door.

The weather was rather chilly, and a brief glance towards the sky would indicate that a rainstorm was coming. Nico remained unfazed by it, however. He walked along the sidewalk of Boulevard thirteen, a four lane road that ran parallel to boulevard one, that ran from the city centre to the regional train station that connected to other cities in the Balkans. He passed by his old middle school. A place where he shared many fond memories with Will. He smiled a sad smile when he glanced up to a window, only to be met with the gaze of a blonde haired girl. He averted his gaze and continued, turning a corner…and bumping into a women carrying multiple bags of groceries.

She gave out a sharp yelp of surprise, the shock and force of their collision causing her to drop her groceries. Nico reached down to help her pick up her fallen belongings, gathering them in his hand. He gave a brief "Sorry", and looked up, meeting her eyes.

"Annie?". Nico asked. The red haired beauty before him widened her eyes.

"Nico?, What a surprise." Annie replied. Nico swallowed hard emotions down his throat.

Annie had long been Will's girlfriend. The two had been dating for around two years up till the point of his death. The last that he saw of her was during Will and his parent's funeral, informing her of his plans to join the armed forces.

Her initial shock was overcome, and she grew to accept his choice. If she felt saddened in any way to his imminent departure and deployment, she didn't show it.

"—tea?"

Nico's focus sharpened to her voice, she looked at her, confused, "What?"

She smiled, and repeated," Would you like to join me for some tea?"

"Uhm, sure. Have any nice places opened up?"

She laughed, a smile lighting up her expression. "I was thinking if you would like to come over to my place. I recently bought some of the finest tea leaves from Sri Lanka, I implore you to come have a taste!"

Nico wasn't sure how to feel about that. He didn't really want to follow her, and would have preferred to just…sit out the short peace before the inevitable war. But then again, he was curious to piece together the missing stories in their lives.

He smiled, "Sure".

Author's note: Sorry to leave you guys hanging for so long, despite my promise of a deadline to you. To be honest, after reading so many un-finished fanfictions on this site, I had become…disillusioned with how easily authors could give up on their creations, and I thought that that would unlikely ever happen to me. Well, after just 11,000 words and four chapters, it kinda did happen to me. Seeing as how this is my first real fanfiction (with the other being a one-shot that just…popped into my head one day), I wanted to finish, or at least continue it for some time.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't lost inspiration for this story, I know what direction I want to take this story to, and I have developed suitable character arcs and plot escalation. I haven't been able to find the motivation to really sit down with my laptop, with a cup of Joe and crack on this thing, if you catch my meaning. I apologise for my tardiness in delivering chapters to you, and well, maybe some of you would understand that frustration. It's fun to think about fantasies and stories, and harder to really make it a reality, in the form of a story. I guess that's why the phrase, "easier said than done", exists. I apologise again.

Due to the lack of me keeping to my promises, I won't be issuing a estimation on when the next chapter will be released.

Reviews:

SpartanBoy: In this story, he is. Don't worry, I will expand on his backstory more as the story continues.


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